Reflection
by nolapeep
Summary: I looked at our different faces, all the age of fourteen. Different colors, different features, yet the same. With the combined wills of Tucker, Danny, and I we could do and get through anything. Even the Valentine's Day dance.


It was the fourteenth of February, one of the days where there are only three kinds of people in Casper High: A) those who are madly in love and are going to the dance together, B) those who have dates, and C) those poor, poor people who are sad to say they don't have dates on Valentine's Day. I guess I wasn't any of those choices. I was madly in love with someone, but I wasn't doing to the dace with him. Well, if you want to be literal, I _was _going to the dance with him, but he wasn't my date. That's predictable, though. I'm not really normal... so, whatever.

As I gazed into my mirror, I looked over my dress. It was an old antique, one that I found in my dusty attic. It was a dark shade of lavender, outlined in different shades of gray. The lacing on it was black, with one of the most unique patterns I've ever seen. The dress had a v-shaped neckline, and spaghetti straps held the it on my shoulders. The fabric was amazingly soft and comfortable. The dress hugged me in the right places, too, flattering my figure.

Soon enough, I realized I had company. I turned on my heels to face two boys standing in my doorway, both handsomely dressed. Tucker cracked a smile while Danny showed me a small wave. I chuckled and said, "You guys can come in." Danny mafe his way into my room with Tucker following. He sat on my bed as Tuck sat in my purple beanie bag chair. And, for some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off of Dan.

He had a black tuxedo on, a violet corsage pinned to the flap of his pocket. His hair was slicked back, not in its usual do. A sweet smelling cologne filled the air surrounding him, oh so satisfyingly toxic.

Tucker looked just as good. He had a lilac colored tuxedo -- I know what you're thinking. "A lilac colored tux?! Where do you get those?!" Don't ask me... I'm asking myself the same thing -- with a black (obviously spray-painted, because you could see the hints of red at the edges) corsage pinned to the flap of his pocket. And anyone who knew him could tell he was wearing his father's cologne. It was suck a smart idea that they matched what I was wearing. I know; I thought of it.

"Are you done?" Danny broke through my thoughts. He gave me a look. "Daydreaming again, are we?"

"No," I snapped back. "More like thinking, thank you very much! And, also, I am not done. I need to finish my hair." I turned back to my mirror and took out my brush. I ran the bristles through my hair as I began to think, once more.

I watched in the mirror as Tucker looked around my loom, an expression of amusement on his face as he inspected all the junk in my safety chamber. As I looked more closely, I felt like I could see into his heart.

There, sitting in my chair, was an fourteen-year-old African American who was ready for the new era we were about to embark. With technology surrounding us, this boy was learning more and more each day. He was still a shy teenager, yet he was very intelligent -- when he wanted to be. He had a great sense of humor, and he was a person you could count on. He was a very good listener, as well. All in all, Tucker Foley was a great friend.

I shifted my weight so I could look at Danny without having to turn my head. I watched as he played with the corsage on his jacket. As I looked more closely, I felt like I could see into his heart.

There, sitting on my bed, was one of my closest friends. He was a regular fourteen-year-old boy... one that knew way more than he should. He was both blessed and cursed with being given the knowledge and told the secrets of a world in a completely different dimension. He was, also, both blessed and cursed with being another species: a ghost. He was still human. He was still a teenager who had school and parents and a sister and a crush (on Paulina, might I add!!). The halfa was a shy A and B student who was trying to make it through every day. And I was proud to say that it was my dearest Danny Fenton.

I brushed my hair, once more, then pronounced, "I'm done!" I turned to my friends as they faced me. I mock-curtsied as they mock-applauded.

"Ready to go?" Tucker asked, getting up. Danny rose to his feet as I answered, "Yep." I went to turn towards the door, but hesitated. I faced the mirror, Danny and Tucker following my gaze to our reflections.

I looked at our different faces, all the age of fourteen. Different colors, different features, yet the same. We were all in this life with one main goal ahead of us: to get through the day. We wanted to actually get through life, but we wanted to enjoy it, too. With the combined wills of Tucker, Danny, and I we could do and get through anything.

Even the Valentine's Day dance.


End file.
